


Million Dollar Man

by wiredlove



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, BAMF Derek, Dirty Dancing, M/M, Memories, Non-Graphic Violence, Pining, Secrets, long fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-21 19:21:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wiredlove/pseuds/wiredlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has things that they hide, including Stiles. He didn't think though that the one person he was trying to impress would find out about his very dirty, big secret.</p>
<p>Not that Derek doesn't have some of his own that he'd rather keep in the shadows.</p>
<p>Little do they both know, that the circles or poles that they linger around are more closely related than either expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dashing Mr. Hale

It was obscene and oh so right. She stepped out unto the stage and though every man in the club knew the strict policy of boys only, he had a very convincing getup. At least the very crisp looking business man who sat in the roped off section thought so. That slick, metallic pole becoming a beacon of silvery, sinful attachment to a world that they had allowed themselves into. Willingly dived head first into it, just to see her . She was the reason that they were all there that wet Friday. One loaded with enough humidity that the pillows of smoke inside got confused with the lurking mist on the puddled roadway. 

The air was condensed. Canned tight with emotions, arousal, electric feelings that reminisced to a hand brushing lightly over every hair follicle, triggering every last nerve ending. The final show of the night, with just the right pulse of music leaking from the ceiling and seeping through the pores of the men that were seated, attention riveted on her. Injecting them with the heady adrenaline of lust. Then she began, only by then it could not be called mesmerizing because it was much more than that. It was fucking illegal, but oh so right.

 

♪ One for the money.

 

Black fence style stockings. Not just any kind, these were ludicrous, running high over slightly muscular thighs and constricting gold hair dusted skin. The pale kind that marked nicely and formed a tight ass those stocking indentations were sure to last on. Underwear with a cut so sharp part of it wedged between her waxed cheeks. All sloping upwards to a tapered waist and sinuous back. 

She had moles but no one knew. Not under that lighting. Lighting that shone mainly on her heavily made up face, black wig with cascading curls that dropped lazily down her curved back. And that bodice, more like leather than whatever material it was supposed to be. Its laces halfway undone. When she showed her neck, he thought that he picked up a saccharine odour, a mix of flowers and dew. That only served to remind him how much he wanted that imprinted on his body so he would have something, a souvenir to carry home.

 

♪ Two for the show. ♫

 

What made an impression on him, the gentleman in the back, were the heels. Red stilettos that swung with her leg swiftly as she grounded her ass into that pole. A pole he thought needed way more grease. He palmed his cock through his pants roughly, staving off the erection he knew was forming because of her. Always because of her. He was weak against it. Could never push it back no matter how many times he argued mentally. Tried to stop himself from coming for her. Sweating with restraint before when he had to finish himself off in the men’s room. 

The beautiful nightmare that kept him awake at night were those lips. Puckered and pink with the top lip having that noticeable middle bump. Giving the top lip a distinctive V shape. He figured probably one day when things were not getting wound so tightly in his life like they were now, he would buy her. Keep her for himself and made sure she never had to be looked upon by other men again.

 

♪ I love you, honey.  
I'm ready, I'm ready to go.♫

 

She slapped her slim hips and slid her hands down to her knees where she bent and posed, knees pressing into that cold, hard, concrete painted floor. He could almost feel her in his lap, his large hands pressing into those hips, leaving his mark on her and his first tightened noticeably and shook. Biting his bottom lip hard between his teeth, mimicking what she was doing on stage. Moist with saliva, he could see the sheen overlaying them. His own pooled in his mouth and he swallowed hard, his oesophagus squeezing and relaxing as it pushed everything down. She made rough love to that pole, sliding every place of hers against it. Like it was her man, pounding her from behind. Drilling into her like he wanted to be doing at that second. Feeling her heat trapping his in its vice grip.

Before too long and way too soon, her dance was over. He gave a frustrated exhale and rose, straightening his suit as he went. His second looked at him questioningly, but he ignored his dark skinned worker and headed to the bathroom.

He would have to wait an entire week before her was able to see her again.

Fuck.

*****

Stiles was late, so late and the only reason that this actually mattered to Stiles was because that replacement lecturer for Mr. Harris was coming into today. Today, because he had heard two girls talking distinctly about that new, hot teacher. No, Stiles was not excited, he was over the fucking moon. None of that would matter though if he reached late for class and missed the introductions and most important, first impressions. 

Yeah, Stiles did not have a lot of those under his belt. Most of his classmates took him for a doofus and someone who kid around a lot, but Stiles Stilinski was a lot more than that. He was starting to think though that the only person who believed that besides himself would be his best friend Scott McCall. Stiles tried not to trip over a rock that had rolled into his path while he ran to his Jeep, digging into his jeans to reach his smartphone. That would be the second time he nearly broke some part of his body today.

“Scotty, my man, how are-” Stiles began.

“Where the hell are you, Stiles?! Class is about to start and you know I cannot take notes for you.” Scott was trying to secretly whisper and shout angrily on his phone at Stiles. Stiles shook his head.

“Would you believe that I'm getting into my Jeep right this second? Scott, don’t worry. I would never subject you to thinking about actual work in school when you could be using all that brain activity on Allison.” Stiles grinned. Scott was head over paws for his new girlfriend. Yes, he had used a puppy analogy because that was the only appropriate way to describe Scott. It was getting kind of annoying lately when Stiles stopped to think about it.

“Just, hurry up!” Scott whispered back through Stiles’ speaker.

It took Stiles about ten minutes, give or take for him to properly fling himself into his vehicle, drive at a legal enough limit to not get pulled over and screech his Jeep into a parking space before skidding down the hallways towards the room where his lecture was taking place. Scott had not texted him or anything since, so introductions were probably being made and had Scott distracted. Poor guy could only focus on so many things at once.

Stiles finally stopped to catch a breath right outside the door and calm his heart that was pounding hard against his ribcage. Both out of excitement and fear. If the stories around Uni were true, this guy could produce his own fire. If that was the case, Stiles would have taken a kerosene shower that morning. Doused himself with some flammable liquid. Let them share that heat that was sure to be coiling off that teacher’s body in tendrils, and wrapping around Stiles’ dick. That would be really dangerous though, and stupid. 

Jesus Christ. What the hell went through his mind on a day to day basis? Such dirty thoughts of teachers in dirty posit…and he was doing it again.

Maybe, just maybe this new teacher would be the exception to all the guys that Stiles had been rejected by lately. Well, all the time. Provided Stiles was successful.

When Stiles took a few steps to approach someone, they fled with the speed of Flash Gordon. Probably there was drool on his shirt, of which was never the case. He had checked. Stiles took a deep breath and pushed open the stained glass door.

His world fucking stopped, because that sculpture sent from the Greek gods standing at the foot of the room had to be some fucking level of unreal. Had he been accidentally transported to a supernatural plane? Is that what was happening?

Something was rushing in his ears and the uproar of sound that had been birthed from his interruption in the class transformed into white noise when Stiles stared into that face. He opened and closed his palms, the webbing between his digits feeling moist and uncomfortable with perspiration.

Stiles took two slow, careful steps into the room and all heads turned to face him, but his focus was on that one guy whose name he saw printed clearly on the board behind him. 

Mr. Derek Hale. 

Stiles saw the moment the mass of the man that had to be just muscle turned to him, his dark stubble that looked just the right length for scraping on someone’s neck and leaving a searing burn in its wake. Behind those geeky, rounded black frames that were popular now two green, clear eyes widened in surprise and narrowed suspiciously as they zoomed in on him and Stiles audibly swallowed. 

He was so fucking out of his league. Mr. Derek Hale’s mouth tilted up in a smirk as if he’d heard him across the room. This just got a lot more intimidating. Stiles’ nuts tightened in their sacs and drew closer to his body, and delivered the final blow to his pride.

Stiles couldn't stop his eyes from widening also and travelling of their own accord down the man’s body. It was fit, too fit for words. And, what was with that shirt? Did he purposely choose to buy clothes a size too small? Or was torturing the female population part of his job requirement? God damn, this guy abused the gym. Stiles wished he had been there to see him sweat, so he'd suck it off as rolled down that neck, and those corded, thick arms that looked strong enough lift Stiles up and shove him into the nearest wall while he pounded-

“Can I help you?” Derek spoke to him, his gaze piercing and breaking Stiles out of the play by play that was happening in his mind. Jesus Christ, even his voice was all levels of ground and forceful. Stiles wanted some of that drizzled in his morning coffee.

“No . Um- Yes.” Some way, Stiles found his voice after unlocking his seized jaw with difficulty. “ I'm in this class. This is level 2 Chemistry right?” he finished tentatively.

“Yes, it is. By the way, you’re late Mr.-?” questioned Derek Hale . Those broad shoulders were so distracting when paired with that deep collarbone. 

“Stilinski, sir.” Oh yeah. Stiles devised another context that ‘sir’ could be used in. A very sexy one. 

“Well Mr. Stilinski, if you would be kind enough to shut the door and take your seat? You’re holding back the class.”

“Sorry.” Stiles apologized sheepishly while he took the stairs two at a time to slide into the empty seat residing next to Scott. There were a couple of murmurs around them as Stiles settled in. No doubt they were trying to decipher what had happened in the last minute and deciding how to transform it into the latest gossip to port around campus.

“Don’t let it happen again.” Derek said pointedly before returning to his lecture. After that, there were no more interruptions. Yet Stiles still felt throughout class as though the lecturer’s gaze had wandered to him periodically. Each and every time, it sent a little electric zing to his balls.

“Stiles, you okay man?” Scott tapped Stiles’ left arm but Stiles couldn’t stop watching Derek. He tried to stay focused for the rest of the class. It mostly worked.

Except for the part that Stiles kept going over and over in his mind how he might, just the tiniest smidgen, have a crush on the very dashing Mr. Hale.

 

*****


	2. A Lot of Benefits

If those were not the whitest canines Stiles had ever seen in his life, he didn't know what else were. That overbite. OMG. Every fucking time the guy smiled in class when telling a joke, which were always chemistry based because Derek was a stickler for seriousness and rules like that, Stiles was 2.5 seconds away from popping a boner. Why had the administration even hired him to teach?

Even they could see how distractingly attractive the guy was. He always came to class wearing the most fashionable attire and jeans. Those jeans. Stiles had to find out where Derek bought them, to go and thank the store owner. They were always the right fit and blue, sometimes faded but always, always, showing off the shape of thighs Stiles was sure to be very muscular. He could nearly see them tighten when Derek walked around the room, a little swagger to his hips each time.

Somebody kill him now. Derek had to be baiting him. There was no other explanation. Stiles needed to hire a spy to see if Derek swayed his hips like that for anyone else in his other classes.

It was two weeks later that Stiles had another encounter with the their now turned lecturer for the rest of the semester, Derek. Mr. Harris had not properly recovered from that accident that he’d been in and had to take more time off. 

“Stiles Stilinski?” Derek’s voice was searching as he called out to the class. Stiles sat in his usual spot. “Mr. Stilinski?”

Most of the class had filtered out by now with only a few lingering back to ask questions. Talking about how hard this semester was being didn't start to cover it for Stiles. He had gotten up that Monday morning to take in the noticeable change in his appearance. It was really taking a hit. Stiles hated those bags that had taken up residence under his eyes and how his skin was starting to look very sallow and lacking in…something. It had to be the sex deprivation from the past few months. He needed to get laid.

It bordered on depressing. His clientèle would take a hit if he didn't do something and make himself look better. Even Scott and Allison were starting to get concerned. If Scott was starting to notice something other than his insanely hot girlfriend, that Stiles recognized because he believe in equal opportunity and beauty in both genders, then that meant other people would too very soon. 

“You sure you’re going to be okay man?” Scott’s hand rested on his shoulder reassuringly. Things had gone downhill for Stiles ever since that first day, with Derek calling on him for almost every example and those days when he just wanted to catch a nap in class. Stiles was starting to think that the guy had a vendetta against him while being simultaneously sexy. Stiles never used to be so tired. His job must be finally getting to him.

“You meeting up with Allison later right?” Scott nodded at him. “Well,” Stiles slapped Scott heartily on the back, “Go and have some fun. Do everything I would.”

“Just call me when you leave, Isaac told me to tell you about that thing he and Erica are having on Saturday.”

“Yeah. Fine.” Stiles glanced to see Scott’s disappearing through the door and returned to packing away his texts. He had even longer hours tonight and an early class tomorrow. He didn't know if he had the energy. 

The air conditioning was whirring softly and highlighted the silence between Stiles and Derek as the last student headed out, the door banging before automatically sliding shut.

“You wanted to speak to me, Derek?” Stiles approached Derek’s desk and noticed the older man looked worn. Maybe they worked in the same circles? Stiles doubted that. Derek Hale was too clean cut to venture where Stiles had gone.

Derek Hale looked up from shuffling some of the test papers that were scattered on his desk and seeming to have found Stiles’ name, he handed the sheets to him. His mouth creased in a serious line. Damn, Stiles wanted to see those pearly whites. It was the healthiest indication that he was not going to get scolded on his performance. He highly doubted that was going to happen in this instance.

“Oh, shit. Seriously?!” Stiles groaned when he noticed the blaring C minus that had been printed and circled in red ink on the page. His dad knew he was having this exam, very big mid-term, and he was sure to ask Stiles about the results later that evening. Stiles rather get shafted with a rusty metal than deal with the expressions he knew his dad’s face was bound to contort into when he saw this paper. Even his anus cringed at the idea.

Derek arched a thick, hairy eyebrow at him, unimpressed by his language. 

“Sorry dude. It’s just that this is a very big exam. Is there really no way for me to make up for this?”

Derek huffed a sigh as he perched one leg on his desk, folded his arms and looked at Stiles. “You do know that you have been calling me Derek and ‘dude’ as if we’re buddies and I have not called you out on it Mr. Stilinski.” Stiles had gotten used to calling him Derek in his head and it was not his fault it accidentally slipped out when it did.

Stiles shrugged, “You tell everyone to call you Derek. What’s wrong if I do?” He finished, pursing his lips.

“There’s nothing wrong in you doing it. It’s just the manner.” Why did he have to sit so lewdly on his desk? Stiles scrunched his eyebrows, biting the inside of his cheek to look at Derek’s face and not the very noticeable bulge that was his crotch. Derek had to be a salesman because Stiles desperately wanted to buy that fruit he had packing. Focus, Stiles, focus.

“ The manner? Could you sound more like something out of Jane Austin?” 

“ I'm surprised you even know what that is.” Stiles thought how amazing it was that Derek never cracked a smile. That iron resolve.

“ I'm double majoring History and Engineering.” Stiles sneered. Derek did not just insult him. He did looked impressed by tell of his expression. Most people who summed Stiles up often deduced his brain was full of cotton and video games. 

“What does your judgment have to do with me making up this exam?” Stiles repeated and slung his backpack off his shoulder to stuff his exam paper into his bag.

“ You see, that is exactly why you are on your way to failing, Mr. Stilinski.” Derek remarked, taking off his glasses resolutely.

“ What? Noo. C’mon, Derek.” If it was possible, Derek’s mouth creased even further. “Okay.” Stiles took a step back, raising his hands in withdrawal.

“ First off all, could you really stop calling me Mr. Stilinski? Stiles is fine. Stilinski just makes me sound like my dad. Which I am not.” Stiles rubbed under his right eye and groaned again. “Second, Make-up exam? Please.”

“Why should I? It doesn't appear that you have been pushing yourself to even pass this course, Stiles. Plus, I can’t give a make-up to every person that requests it.” Derek turned away from him to begin packing away. Just the proper way he spoke was turning Stiles on.

Bad boner! This was not the time to show up. Stiles would have to beat it into submission later. He pushed away the thought of how badly he wanted Derek in on some of that action.

“What do you suggest I do then? Exchange BJ’s?” Derek laughed and stepped closer to Stiles, making the youth get the impression that Derek was serious. 

“Well, that’s one alternative.” Fuck! Stiles gaped and told himself to close his mouth. 

The tousled dark haired man measured up to the same height as Stiles but Derek felt like a giant. A giant who was occupying a space that felt like a hair’s breath and so close to kissing him. “Though whoring yourself out would not be that rewarding would it, Stiles?” The guy said his name with so much conviction that Stiles was convinced he should present himself to Derek right there and then and declare that his body was ready.

Stiles rubbed and gripped his neck to stop himself for shaking his head in disagreement. Derek was so wrong. Stiles could make it very rewarding for the both of them.

“But,” Derek replaced his frames and Sexy! Derek was back and once more the ball breaker. “I think it would be best to just remain after class and do extra lessons.”

Great. The dude had been joking, Stiles lamented. Sure Derek, just cut off my balls and carry it home with you, why wont you? Stiles wanted to scream. 

Wait- the gears that had been turning in Stiles brain with whatever little oil they had totally ground to a halt. Did Derek just say extra lessons?

Meaning the same kind where student and teacher were in school after hours with no one around and the freedom to do what they wanted?

“Will you spank me?” Stiles realizing a second too late that he had actually said that out loud and refused to look at Derek.

“What did you say?” Derek’s face actually cracked an emotion of serious offence.

“Um. I said I hope you don’t blank me…by not giving me this opportunity.” Stiles grimaced internally, praying Derek accepted that answer.

“Well since you seem so determined, I will do it how you want. There are going to be some long, hard hours, Stiles.”

There was no way Stiles just imagined Derek saying that. He tried not to zone out the implications.

“Really?” murmured Stiles. Derek actually wanted to spend time alone with him. Things were starting to turn around after all.

“You do you know that is the third time you've questioned me in the span of two minutes. Is everything I'm saying really that confusing?” Stiles only just realized but Derek spoke with his hands. A lot. Maybe he was one of those people who knew sign language.

“I um… I just want to be certain that this is something that you want to do.” 

“ I'm not offering this for me Stiles. This is for your benefit. The only reason I'm doing this is because of you needing a shove in the right direction.” Stiles really liked the way this conversation was going. Benefits with Derek. Derek shoving him in the right direction, or position. Stiles smirked to himself.

“Something funny?” Derek looked like he was five minutes away from slapping Stiles upside the head to get him to listen.

“Nothing is funny. Its nothing. OK, sure. The thing is though that I have a job that I have to stay late at after school and I don’t know what time would be good for you.” Stiles scratched his head. He was not sure how this was going to work out.

“How about Friday evenings then?” Derek proposed, “Not much classes are scheduled for those days.” 

“That won’t work for me either. Saturdays are bad also.” Stiles apologized. Derek peered at him suspiciously and paused for a few seconds as if he was thinking something over. 

He cleared his throat before continuing and sighed. “Sundays it is then. You should be grateful that I'm doing this for you. I don’t do this often.” Do what? Stiles almost said, Pick up guys in your classes? He knew Derek would kick him in the nuts if that one slipped.

“I am grateful. And sorry to be putting you out of your way like this. I'm sure your other students won’t appreciate me barging in on their time.”

“No. You’re the only one.” Sometime between when they had been speaking, Derek had packed up all his stuff and had his laptop bag on his shoulder.

Stiles choked on his spit. “So, it’s just the two of us then?” Derek nodded and Stiles smiled weakly. Don’t tell anyone but Stiles’ stomach did a little flip flop at that thought, admitting to himself that he felt a little special that Derek was really doing this only for him.

“So I will see you on the coming Sunday Mr. Stilin- I mean, Stiles. Go over everything that we have covered so far in preparation.” Derek brought up his hand in a wave before he stopped and walked back to where Stiles was stood not really knowing what to do with himself.

“Here’s my number in case you have an emergency and have to cancel.” Derek rattled off a number and Stiles dove into his pocket for his phone to quickly save it.

“What about you?” Stiles called out just as Derek was nearly out the door.

“I do have your email, Stiles. It’s on my class list remember?” There was the smirk that Stiles was starting to become all too familiar with. Stiles almost did a face palm for asking that stupid of a question but he waited for Derek to leave just so he could stand there and watch that ass fade from sight.

It was only on his drive home that Stiles realized he had gotten Derek’s number, and ran over one of his neighbours plants when his phone started ringing , scaring him half to death. When had this become his life?

 

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read and gave kudos and expressed interest in this story!

**Author's Note:**

> I could not get this out of my head. I hope that it's fresh and a little different. I don't have a beta so any errors or feedback that you guys have is greatly appreciated. 
> 
> I put in lot more than I usually and I really hope you guys love it. This is for the fandom. :)
> 
> Lyrics taken from 'Lana Del Ray- Million Dollar Man'. I use a lot of songs when writing.
> 
> I'm hoping to update every Thursday. (More tags to be added later on as things are revealed)


End file.
